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I Don't Think You Can See Me

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Wrote this years ago while reflecting on some childhood scenes. Local and obscure references obviously speak to a limited audience. But then again, the 70s were pretty obscure.

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nothing else is goin on

 and noone left the nowhere town

 where life is short, hope is naught

 for little more is ever taught

 ted and noch and dave the rave

 there's simply some who can't be saved

 they drove through woods in a little car

 we wonder how they got so far

 to married genes, endangered fish

 and carried out on a little dish

 the money game, with all its pieces

 can't be lost to the one who misses

 a b-ball hoop that once was tall

 did disappear - it didn't fall

 buried underneath their noses

 mark the grave with little roses

 i don't think you quite heard me

 i don't think you can see me

 the attic, cellar, vines and bushes

 held the world of tugs and pushes

 full of sight and full of sounds 

 and covered many hollowed grounds

 from makamar to bluebell woods

 the beach and tracks within our hood

 were thoroughfares within our minds

 and we were there to sort our finds

 and share the gold we brought between us

 melt it down and let it bring us

 inspiration, rites of spring

 to each his own and everything

 will come back to ya, whole again

 or else it wasn't in the plan

 we mapped it out, and broke the rules

 we'd look it up but we'd be fools

 i don't think you quite heard me

 i don't think you can see me

© 1995 roy walter

January 1, 1995 01:46 AM

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